


Seven Nights

by DarkLThemsby



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-09
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:18:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7438866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkLThemsby/pseuds/DarkLThemsby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I woke this morning, feeling a story run through my head, and instead of just letting it flow, I decided to type it out, and this is the result.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Seven Nights

Widowmaker felt confused as she slowly ran the grapple line down her leg, falling slowly, headfirst down along the building. Usually the particular window she was aiming for was always open, but tonight she found it closed. Inside she could see the small figure of Lena Oxton shaking lightly, as she was lying on the small double bed. Widowmaker placed a hand on the window, making a small sound, and with a blur Lena was standing before her. Widowmaker noticed that her eyes were puffy and red, as if she had been crying for hours, but even so, Lena was regarding her with a fierce, angry stare. She stood there for a while, a single tear running down her face, until she reached out for the blinds and closed them, blocking her from sight.

 

Something about this made something twitch inside Widowmaker. She was not sure what, or why, but it was as if she felt a prickling pain in her heart. She kept hanging there, outside the window for fifteen minutes, wondering, waiting, before she zoomed back up to the top of the building. She wondered if Lena's rejection had something to do with their fight earlier that night, and Widowmaker's ultimate success at assassinating Tekhartha Mondatta. She had screamed at her then, _"Why!?"_ but Widowmaker thought it obvious. He was her mission, and she had carried it out.

 

The next night Widowmaker again found the window closed, and again she felt confused. For many, many months now, she had come every night to this apartment to find the window open. It was their arrangement, as much a part of their dance, as their battles on the rooftops. She hung for half an hour that night, watching Lena sleeping in the half empty bed, before returning to the rooftop, again with a strange prickling feeling in her chest that she could not explain.

 

On the third night, Lena was waiting at the closed window when Widowmaker slid down to it. She gave her a pained look, before hugging herself as she turned her gaze away from Widowmakers piercing eyes. Widowmaker watched her for a while, before slowly placing a hand on the window. Lena bit her lip, as if to bite back the tears building in her eyes, still avoiding Widowmakers gaze. Slowly Lena reached for the blinds, closing them mostly, leaving a slight gap through which Widowmaker could see her laying down in her bed, crying into her pillow. This time the pain in Widowmakers chest was more clear, and cut deeper than before. She still did not understand the pain, or why it was there, but she felt it.´

 

On the fourth night, Widowmaker simply placed herself on the opposite rooftop, watching Lena through her windows. She wanted to go down to her, but the thought of the closed window made her stay. She wanted Lena to notice her, see her across the buildings, but if she had Lena made no acknowledgement of her, and soon enough she turned off all the lights, and went to her bed. Even at this distance, Widowmaker could see that she was shaking lightly, and the pain in her chest gnawed at her. Was she feeling regret?

 

On the fifth night Widowmaker sat on Lena's balcony all night. She was not sure why she kept coming back, night after night, even though Lena clearly wanted to end their game. But then why was she looking so sad? And why was Widowmaker feeling such a deep pain? Clearly it would be easier for both of them to just continue like before, yet Lena still left the window closed. She left before dawn the next morning, letting herself have a small look through Lena's window. Inside a bloodshot, puffy red eye met hers, but it closed with a pained expression. Something wet was running down Widowmakers face when she stood on the roof top, and she was surprised to find herself crying.

 

On the sixth night she stayed away. Confusion was running deep through her, as she tried to understand what was going on inside her, why she was feeling in such pain, why she was feeling so sluggish. The other Talon agents had started to notice that her shots were slightly off, that her perfect aim was faulting. She lay silent in her quarters, remembering the feel of Lena's skin against hers, the sweetness of her lips the first time they had kissed, the gentle touch of Lena's hands as they had explored her body. She did not sleep at all that night, the pain in her chest was piercing her too deeply.

 

On the seventh night, she left a note on the closed window as she watched Lena sleep. Just a small note, scribbled in the cold blue of her own blood: _I'm sorry_. She stayed on the opposite roof until the next morning, watching as Lena woke and found the note. She watched as Lena rushed to the balcony, staring across the roofs, scanning for her. As Lena found her, she quickly jumped down, away from Lena's eyes. She feared her response, but before she got far, she heard the familiar sound of Lena dashing through time, and she felt someone embrace her from behind.

 

"Don't go." Lena's voice sounded from somewhere behind Widowmaker, and she felt her heart skip a beat. Lena was gripping her tightly, shaking as she did so. Widowmaker let a hand touch Lena's gently, slowly easing her grip, and letting their fingers intertwine. She turned in the embrace, letting a hand run across Lena's face. She slowly lifted her chin, looking into her dark brown eyes. She leaned down, and gave her a small, hesitant kiss. When Lena did not turn it away, but instead gripped her tightly, Widowmaker broke down, now embracing the smaller woman, holding her close as tears started flowing free.

 

"I'm sorry." She repeated over and over, tears streaming down her face. In her chest her heart was pounding hard, the piercing feeling slowly easing away, and Widowmaker knew that she was no longer Widowmaker. She was Amélie, and she was in love.


End file.
